Why had Eva thought anything so stupid would work? Did she have amnesia? Or maybe she thought Dan and the rest of us were the ones with amnesia instead.
“That is one crazy bitch.” Jason’s whisper contains a chuckle of astonishment.
“You can say that again.” I mirror his previous retort.
“One crazy bitch.” We both shake with laughter walking back to our offices.
****
I have no plans for the evening as Jason and I leave the building for our respective homes at the end of the workday. The event with Eva is almost forgotten with all of the numbers and reports we’ve dealt with all afternoon.
That is, it was forgotten until I see her. She’s sitting in her car parked directly behind mine in the lot.
“What the fuck?” Jason follows my gaze, seeing her as well.
“What’s she still doing here?” His face mirrors the confusion in his voice.
“My thoughts exactly.”
She isn’t on her phone, or reading, or doing anything to occupy her attention. She’s just sitting in her car, looking at the spot where Jason and I stand. Has she been here all day? Has she been watching the lobby doors for hours? What a creepy bitch.
And I know creepy.
“Maybe she forgot something?”
He’s definitely trying to give her the benefit of the doubt.
“Who the hell knows, but I think it’s time to get out of here.” If I keep seeing her, I’ll want to add her to my list of playmates, and that can’t happen. I have a connection to her, and I even had a motive.
“You’re right. She’s starting to look a little nuts.” We walk to our respective cars, and when I get into mine I hear my phone beep. For a second I debate waiting to read it until I get home, because Miss Crazy Pants is feet behind me, but then I wonder if it might be Bee or Amelia, and I take it out instead.
It’s only from Jason, and I decide I could’ve waited after reading, Good luck with that. She’s staring daggers into the back of your head. Psycho. Though I’d have preferred a text from one of my wonderful women, I couldn’t agree more with Jason. Time to get out of here.
I start the car, pulling out of the emptying lot as the snow falls lightly from the cloudy sky. Jason is ahead of me waving frantically, trying to get my attention.
“What the hell does he want?” I look down to my ringing phone. He’s calling. “What, dude?” I do have a life outside our friendship.
“Turn around. She’s following you.” I glance in my rearview mirror to see Eva holding a look of severe determination.
“Fuck.” I breathe the word out in a cloud of frustration and helplessness.
“Like I said, good luck with that.” Jason starts laughing before hanging up without a goodbye.
As I drive through town, Eva continues to follow me. I try to stop looking in my mirrors, but every few seconds I find myself checking to see if she’s left yet. She hasn’t. In hopes of losing her, I drive to the store to do some shopping. I spend tons of time meandering through aisles, picking up everything I need or may need. I try on clothes, and even chat with a few clerks about electronics I don’t need.
An hour later, I leave with high hopes Eva has given up and driven home to stew in her own embarrassment and anger. But I don’t have much luck. My stomach sinks down to my groin as I see a horrifying Cheshire grin above Eva’s steering wheel in the parking spot next to mine.
I have two choices right now. I could flip shit, trying to scare her away, or I can refrain from any and all contact. Both have potential to work, and they also have equal opportunities to backfire. Eva is nothing if unpredictable. I should take the safer route. I shouldn’t encourage her.
I’d like nothing more than to knock on her window, screaming profanity and threats once she rolls it down. But that’d give her the upper hand, which is the last thing I want. No, I need to be smarter. I won’t show my annoyance; in fact, I won’t give her any display of emotion. Just like the bully in school, she’ll get bored if I continue to ignore her.
So with this resolve, instead of telling her to fuck off, I simply avert my gaze, hopping into my own car without any acknowledgment of her presence. It takes a lot of effort not to drag her by the hair from her car to mine and shove her into my trunk for a rough ride toward the middle of nowhere. But I resist.
I pull away as if I’ve no idea she does the same behind me. I don’t make any evasive moves, because they wouldn’t do shit. As my former boss, she knows where I live. I drive as I would any other day.
I decide to do every errand I can. I head from store to store with my shadow in tow. I linger at the grocery store, remembering running into Bee last time, and then I stock up on ingredients I’ve neglected on quick runs. I trot through the hardware store, saying hello to everyone, and I go to dinner alone, even adding on dessert.
She never once comes inside the stores, either out of laziness or fear she’d lose me inside, I’m unsure which. She just sits in her car letting it run next to or near mine, waiting to continue following me. By late evening I’ve run out of places to go, so I eventually drive home with Eva as a constant behind me.
Getting out at home, it takes a lot of willpower to refrain from flipping her the middle finger as I go back and forth between the car and the house with the loot I’ve purchased. She’s parked right in front of my house, across the street, with her driver’s side facing my front windows.
The curtains will be drawn tonight.
A small current of unease ripples throughout my system. It starts between my shoulder blades, moving up to my scalp in the time it takes me to blink twice. Nausea quickly follows. If Eva stalks me for any length of time, it’s going to make a playdate incredibly hard to orchestrate. Impossible, really. What the fuck am I going to do if she never goes away?
I have to run to the bathroom, and I barely make it to the toilet before I puke.
This is bad. This is so bad.
Wiping my mouth, I grab the landline and dial Jason’s house number. Maybe he’ll have some idea to get rid of this crazy bitch.
As I hang up I huff, because Jason had nothing brilliant to offer me. His only suggestion was to notify the police (fuck that) but he added they probably won’t even do anything anyway since she hasn’t threatened me. Stalking is hard to prove. Truthfully, even if she had made a threat, unless I sincerely believed myself to be in jeopardy, I’d be hesitant to make that phone call. With three—nope, wait, with four if you add The-One-Who-Doesn’t-Count—murders to my name so far, it doesn’t seem like a wise decision. I don’t need any attention from the authorities.
So I’m back to square one with no ideas and a crazy fucking cunt outside my house stalking me. My heart leaps at a thought. I haven’t checked in an hour. Maybe she’s come to her senses, realized how psycho she’s being, and given up to go home. I peel the charcoal curtains back then hunch over with disappointment. Damn batty bitch is still there. The exhaust from her tail pipe plumes clouds in the cold.
Well, at least she’ll be paying a ton for gas to stalk me in the winter. But that’s a shitty consolation prize.
I stomp to my bedroom with thoughts of blood and gore in her future, all of which are only fantasies, I know, but they help calm me down. I shower, trying to let the water wash some of my worries away.
Surely she can’t keep this up forever. It’s only been half a day, anyway. Maybe I’m overreacting in my angst. She has to give up eventually. I’ve seen her work ethic, and it isn’t all too determined, so she’s sure to stop this before long.
Fuck.
As I head from the bathroom, my shower done, toward my bed for some mindless television then sleep, I can’t shake the bitterness soaking into my system. She better fucking knock it off soon or I may not be able to control my irrational rage, and then we’ll both be in trouble.
Settled into bed, I grab my phone to charge it for the night. Despite my pissy attitude, a waiting text from Bee puts a smile on my face. I’m busy with a deadlin
e tomorrow, but how about Wednesday night I try to beat your planning extraordinaire? I type back a quick positive. At least I have something to look forward to.
I flip to the news after replacing my phone on the nightstand and freeze as the face of The-One-Who-Doesn’t-Count fills the screen again.
Fucking shit fuck.
I can’t seem to get a break today.
The police are boasting new evidence, but they won’t reveal what it is. They say they’re close. But what could it be? Is there a link back to me? I may not have to worry too long about Eva hindering my life, because prison will be considerably worse.
I count to ten to calm myself.
This isn’t the time to lose it. I won’t dig my own grave.
I continue watching the report, changing my tune as I learn they’re just blowing smoke. They don’t have anything concrete. If they even suspected me, there would be knocking at my door. All they have is a missing girl, and they don’t even have her body. The authorities are begging for any information, which makes me smile knowing not a soul other than myself has any to give.
Again my phone goes off. Picturing Bee’s sparkling eyes, I grab it ready to come up with a witty retort. But it isn’t from Bee, and for the first time I’m torn about the two women I’m juggling. Tomorrow? The only word she sent is filled with more promise than I knew three syllables could hold. Full of uncertainty, I send her a positive response.
Shaking my head, I sink into my plush covers, trying to block out all of the confusion I’ve lead myself into.
Shit.
****
At work the following morning, I’m second-guessing my decision. Agreeing to see Mel today could be stupid. With Eva still following me, this could end up fuel for her fire and come back to bite me harder in the ass than I’m prepared for.
I never want Jason to find out how I’ve betrayed him.
Ever.
I open up my email and compose an explanation of my situation for Amelia, worded in a way that’s asking for advice instead of mentioning our rendezvous. If she has any ideas we can move forward, but if not I need to cancel. Since she has as much to lose as I do, it’s only fair to let her in about what’s going on.
“You know she’s outside again. Did she stay in front of your house all night?” Jason’s large shoulders lean into my office as I look up from the email I just sent his wife.
“I don’t even think she slept. Bitch is determined.”
There’s clear animosity in my voice. Jason looks empathetic.
“I don’t envy you right now.”
Well, I don’t envy you either since your wife is having an affair and planning to leave you…but I leave that part unsaid.
“Do you think I should tell Dan?”
I figure the more people aware of the situation, the less damage she can do, and thus the less power she has over me. I don’t want her to have a single drop of power, but that’s pretty much impossible with the list of secrets I carry.
“Shit, I didn’t even think of that. Yeah, maybe you should.”
I grab a scrap of paper to list everyone I need to talk to about my unfortunate tail.
“I’ll have to warn Bee tomorrow, too.” I’m thinking out loud now. I look back up to an amused look on Jason’s chubby face.
“Still happening, huh?”
Yeah, her and your wife, dick.
“As a matter of fact, yeah it is. So what?”
Jason upturns his palms in surrender to the ice in my voice.
“No offense, I swear. No judgment. I’m happy for you.” He pauses before adding, “I like her. She’s pretty cool.”
“Good. I like her too.”
Jason’s smirk widens as he realizes I’ve confessed an emotion I don’t think I ever have before. I’ve always admitted to lust, horniness, want, desire, but I don’t do the dating thing, so this is a new revelation.
Jason walks back to his own office giggling, and I stand to follow him out.
“Good luck telling Dan.”
“Fuck, this is embarrassing.”
I hope it blows over quickly and my admittance to everyone ends up unnecessary.
“Better to tell him now, though, rather than have to explain it after she’s tried sabotaging you.”
He’s right. I hate it, but he’s right.
“True. You’ve sold me.” And I start the walk of shame with my head hung.
After my meeting with Dan I’m feeling better. It was horrible having to confess about the crazy glue doing her best to stick it to me, but now my head is held high once more. He’s seen firsthand how unstable she is, and he promised to assist me in any way he can. He was pretty kind about it all.
Thank fucking god for that.
I return to my desk and open my email. I have two waiting. One is from Amelia, and the other from Bee. I sigh as I open the first.
From: Amelia Moore
To: Aidan Sheppard
Subject: Tuesday
I’m sorry you have to deal with such a sucky problem. She’s nuts. But, I don’t think you have anything to worry about for tonight. Your plans can remain the same, I think. As long as you’re still in, seems safe to me.
Sincerely,
Mel
I wonder what her plans are. She may have a disguise in mind. The thought is intoxicating, and I almost forget I have a second email to read. I get lost for a few minutes in visions of dark corners and veiled identities.
But I’m pulled from those fantasies when the face beneath the wig and sunglasses morphs into Bee’s. And I’m thoroughly shocked when I realize I’d rather be having sex with her tonight. I’d prefer her in a dark corner whispering softly in my ear.
Well shit, so much for not wanting anything serious with anyone. This is the most serious I’ve ever felt with anyone other than playmates.
Double shit.
From: Bee Iverson
To: Aidan Sheppard
Subject: Date Night
Hi,
I’m procrastinating on my writing, and I just wanted to take a second to say hey. Okay, dorky, I know. Anyway, looking forward to tomorrow.
See you soon,
B
I choose to leave Amelia’s email unanswered; there isn’t much to say. But I do respond to Bee’s with a quick hello in return and an agreement of excitement for our third date.
It’s followed by another what the fuck’s happening to me? moment.
Looks like I have another few days of juggling the women in my life, which unfortunately now includes Eva.
Not the most appealing ménage à quatre there ever was.
****
At seven, while I’m lounging on my couch after dinner, trying to pretend Eva isn’t outside my house again, I wonder if Mel has gotten distracted or had something come up to prevent our chance to meet tonight. I wouldn’t be heartbroken if that’s the case, and I don’t plan to text her to check in.
It is what it is.
Of course, my phone buzzes in my pocket after I’ve decided my night will be spent at home. I dig it out and read Amelia’s message. One hour. Z.
I answer with two letters. OK
****
Eva followed me to Spot Z, as expected, but at least she stayed outside. She probably assumes I’m just trolling for drunk snatch. Hopefully Amelia is smart enough not to take Jason’s car. If she’s trying to conceal her identity then it would be stupid to show up in his vehicle. I should have coached her more.
I leave my house half an hour after Mel texts me in order to put plenty of time between our arrivals. With this fucking stalker, I can’t be too careful. Eva may be crazy, but she isn’t as stupid as I’d like. She’s cunning, so I seriously need to watch my back with her behind it at all times. Goddammit, she’s making everything so much more complicated. I wish I could just collect her donation. It’d be so satisfying to kill her and get it over with.
It was incredibly weird walking to the bar with a car creeping along slowly behind me. Eva’s determine
d, and though she’s obvious, she doesn’t seem to be quitting any time soon.
I sit in the back of the bar where little light reaches except for the occasional flicker from the dance floor. The rhythmic beats of the music are loud and fast. This was a good place for Mel to choose, I’ll give her that.
A song into my third drink, I see a familiar silhouette slink across the dance floor toward my secluded booth. It’s Amelia, but she’s covered her hair with a short blonde wig, naughty librarian glasses, and a dress that’s sluttier than any I’ve ever seen on her. My earlier indifference sways as my blood pumps downward. Her tits are almost popping out of the top of the sheer dress as it rides up her thighs with each step.
I watch as she picks a female partner at random on the dance floor and starts to work her curves into those of the stranger. Her intentions work as my dick reacts quickly. It actually hurts, it’s so hard.
I can’t tear my eyes away as Mel runs her fingers down the sides of her willing participant. She grazes the woman’s breasts, grinding into her from behind. The woman flings her head back as she places her hands over Amelia’s as encouragement. As the first song blends into a second, the stranger pulls Mel’s hands around to her front and holds them to her chest.
Amelia doesn’t protest, but instead she starts to massage the tits she’s been encouraged to touch. She’s clearly enjoying this show as much as I am. I have no idea if she experimented before she met Jason, but if she didn’t the chance is now.
I suck in a deep breath as Mel lets one of her hands start to travel downward while the other continues to work the woman’s cleavage. From my seat, I can see her fingers dip down into the low-cut top. I watch in a trance, completely unable to look away. Amelia’s wandering hand moves past the navel and travels past the final destination to her dance partner’s thigh instead.
Fuck, what a tease.
I don’t stop watching, though.
Nothing but Darkness Page 21
